A blog by Sean Keane.

I have abandoned Zembla in favor of SeanKeaneComedy.com a while ago, and really, abandoned Sean Keane Comedy for an assortment of sports Tumblrs. So Sunday's epic Tumblr outage was quite distressing to my blogging life, especially since it was an NFL Sunday. Many close games, uncommented, coaches unmocked, athlete photos uncaptioned with hilarity. More maddening was Tumblr's actual response to the outage, one that reads as twee as the site itself, which is primarily driven by photos of cute cats and Zooey Deschanel.

"We're working quickly to recover from a major issue in one of our database clusters. We're incredibly sorry for the inconvenience."

That's the error message, and they also tweeted it. Of course, the official site status is updated on a Tumblr blog. (As is Twitter's! Hope they never go down at the same time!) But for some reason, the word "incredibly" is what infuriates me. "I'm incredibly sorry" really means, "Oh my gosh, you are so mad at me, aren't you?" Overly earnest, but also ineffectual. Which is basically what you'd expect from a company whose staff looks like this:

If this had happened to a tech company in California, people would be working feverishly to resolve the problem. They'd be going without sleep, chugging Red Bulls, and bugging their doctor friends to put them on Adderall IVs. But Tumblr is based in Brooklyn! I imagine the conversation Sunday afternoon went something like this.

"Guys, I know we still have a lot of database issues. But this yoga class is only once a week. My body is telling me i really need to go."
"That's cool, Meaghan. I have tickets to Neutral Milk Hotel's secret show at the Knitting Factory anyway."
"OK, we'll write an apology, then go decompress at the Life Cafe."
"Can we do a staff star pose before we leave?"
"Of course we can."

I was excited to vote for this guy, Rafael Mandelman, in SF's supervisorial elections this November. I like his politics, he's endorsed by my good friend Nato Green, and just look at that face! Totally bald, and like me, he doesn't really know how to smile in pictures. If a politician hasn't figured out a photogenic fake smile, that tells me he can't possibly be corrupt. The slick smile comes first; the bribes and graft follow.

Unfortunately, I cannot vote for Mr. Mandelman because I am no longer a resident of my beloved District 8. I'm with a few hundred feet of being in District 6, the dominion (for one month more) of loose cannon Supervisor Chris Daly, who fights for affordable housing, uses the word "fuck" at nearly every meeting, tried to eliminate the position of Police Chief, and called Gavin Newsom a cokehead in front of the whole Board. Chris Daly is awesome. But I do not live in District 6.

I live down the street in District 9. District 9! We (well, they - I didn't live here) elected our supervisor in 2008: David Campos, a Spanish-speaking gay man who moved to America at age 14, as an undocumented immigrant from Guatemala. If Mr. Campos also rides a fixed-gear bike and enjoys the music of the Arcade Fire, he could not be more perfect for this neighborhood. Still, I do expect a tough re-election fight in 2012 if Mr. Campos goes up against the only more ideal candidate than him to represent District 9 - a prawn.

So absent any true district-wide electoral dram, I will have to contend myself with voting for Proposition 19. Please take a moment and look at the pro-19 website - not because of the information, or quality of arguments, but because the site was clearly designed by someone who smokes a lot of marijuana. There's huge buttons for everything, a childish drawing of the sun for no reason, and 4-5 different fonts. They allow you to register to vote right there on the site, which is half the battle, but I hope the pro-legalization folks have a plan to mobilize voters on Election Day. Less "Get out the Vote," and more "Get the Voters Out of Bed."

It's been a long and hard-fought struggle, but I am finally the top Sean Keane in the Google rankings. Zembla, sweet neglected Zembla, my first blog love and former constant online companion, has stalled out at #5 in search results for "sean keane", but Sean Keane Comedy Dot Com has reached the pinnacle, finally passing the honey-voiced Irish tenor Sean Keane. What turned the tide? Better name-branding, lower-quality, higher-frequency posts, and the fact that SeanKeane.com mysteriously disappeared from the internet.

I'd like to take this time to thank everyone who helped this crazy dream become a reality, including all the Sean Keanes everywhere. The first round is on me at the long-awaited Sean Keane Konvention, still preliminarily scheduled to take place in Keansburg, New Jersey on December 21, 2012.

The above is Dr. Dre's new commercial for Dr. Pepper. It's fine for what it is, but I think we can agree that it doesn't use Dr. Dre to his full potential. I took the liberty of writing some new treatments for Dre/Pepper commercials, most of which are quite Xplosive.

* * *

Snoop and Dre are at an outdoor barbecue in Compton. G-Funk music plays, we see ribs on the grill, and Snoop opens a large refrigerator to reveal that it's full of frosty 40-ounce bottles of Dr. Pepper. Also, Warren G is there playing volleyball. He undoes this girl's top, and then Snoop and Dre blast her with bottles of Dr. Pepper. At first she's mad, but then some of the Dr. Pepper gets sprayed in her mouth, and she says, "Wow, I can taste all 23 flavors." Dre smiles and says, "Ain't nuthin' but a P thang."

* * *

Eminem is drinking a 20-ounce bottle of Dr. Pepper when Dre comes in with a letter from Eminem's biggest fan, Sam. As he reads the letter, we see flashbacks of the fan chugging Mountain Dew and suffering from cavities, then getting on a sugar high and playing extreme sports all crazy. The whole time, Dido is singing that Diet Dr. Pepper is not so bad, not so bad. Eminem writes back and tells the guy that he should switch to Dr. Pepper, while Dre nods knowingly. Eminem explains that he had a fan who drank so much Mountain Dew, he slipped into a diabetic coma and died - and his name was Sam, too. Then we realize, OH SHIT IT'S THE SAME GUY! Dre shakes his head and says, "Damn," then he and Eminem solemnly pour Dr. Pepper on the ground.

* * *

Rapper "Sleazy-E", in soda deliveryman uniform, is building a Sierra Mist display in a supermarket with a Muzak version of George Clinton's "Atomic Dog" playing in the background. Suddenly, a shadow appears over Sleazy-E and the regular song kicks in. It's Snoop and Dre! Snoop says, "Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay, Dr. Pepper's in the motherfuckin' house!" Dre knocks over the display, swinging a two-liter of Dr. Pepper like a club. Sleazy-E tries to run away, visibly wetting his pants in fear, but Snoop and Dre are too fast for him. Snoop pins his arms, and Dre forces a bottle of Dr. Pepper into his mouth, saying, "Gap teeth in your mouth, so my two-liter's got to fit." Sleazy-E struggles, but as he drinks the Dr. Pepper, his Jheri curl hairstyle softens, and his appearance morphs, and by the time the bottle is empty, it's Tupac! (played by an impostor) Tupac opens his eyes and says, "Like California - DR. PEPPER knows how to party."

* * *

Dr. Dre is sitting in his low rider, hitting the switches and activating the hydraulics. The camera pulls back to reveal that Dre is not actually on the streets, but rather in a very fancy garage. A uniformed butler walks up and brings Dre a tray, upon which sits a bowl of caviar, a Cuban cigar, and a crystal carafe full of Dr. Pepper. The servant opens the garage door to reveal that Dre's house is overlooking a white sand beach, and four more servants enter to fan Dre with palm leaves as he sips his Dr. Pepper. Dre's servant puts a match to a hundred dollar bill, and Dre uses the flaming bill to light his cigar. Then Dre says, "Dr. Pepper has 23 flavors. That's one for every million dollars I make in a month." Also you can see a really nice set of golf clubs in the back seat behind Dre.

* * *
Dr. Dre strides through a Dr. Pepper bottling plant with "Still D.R.E." playing behind him. "I'm representing for the Peppers all across the world," Dre says, slamming a lever that releases a torrent of cans. "Still hitting the taste buds with 23 flavors," he says, hopping onto a forklift. Dre opens a can of Dr. Pepper and takes a long gulp. "And I still got love for the sweets. It's the D-R-P."

* * *

(This one is a synergistic effort with the new ABC drama Flash Forward). Two FBI agents stand on an overpass, looking down at a freeway strewn with wrecked cars. Their faces show disbelief, and extreme thirst. "I've never seen such destruction," says the first agent. "You mean to tell me that for two minutes and seventeen seconds, everyone on Earth just...?"

"Forgot about Dre. Yes. And just look what happened," answers the second agent.

"Even the survivors...they're moving their lips, but nothing comes out but a bunch of gibberish."

They look behind them to see a helicopter landing. At the controls is Dr. Dre. He hops out and jogs over, arms full of Dr. Pepper bottles.

"We thought you were dead, Dre!" exclaims the first agent.

"No, I've been in a lab with a pen and a pad, trying to get these damn flavors off," Dre answers, tossing a 20-ounce bottle to each agent. They chug mightily, and sigh.

"Dre, you'll never be forgotten again," says the second agent.

"And neither will Dr. Pepper," answers Dre.

* * *

There's a crowd of hos assembled in the waiting area of the emergency room. Dre is wearing a doctor coat, a stethoscope and one of those headbands with a mirror on it. Eventually there's some line about chronic dehydration.

* * *

Dre is home watching the movie Soul Plane on a massive plasma-screen television. We see Dre's face, intercut with a montage of Snoop Dogg's performance as the captain of the Soul Plane. Dre looks offended, and progressively more disappointed and disgusted. He picks up his cell phone and calls his agent. "Tell Dr. Pepper I'll do it," he says. "There's worse ways to sell out than doing a soda commercial." Dre turns off the television and sits alone in the darkness for the next fifteen seconds. It's hard to tell for sure, but it's possible that Dre is weeping.

It has long been my dream to open a chimichanga-only restaurant. Not just a restaurant that specializes in chimichangas, but an all-chimichanga, all-the-time kind of establishment. I'd call it the "Chimnasium."

The whole menu is just chimichangas. Daily special? It's a chimichanga. Salads? The closest thing we have is a chimichanga with romaine lettuce inside. Appetizers? A tiny plate of chimichangas will do a lot to whet your appetite. Kids menu? 2/3-size chimichangas. Maybe they can get a burger and fries, but that burger will be wrapped in a tortilla - along with the french fries - and deep-fried. Soup? We can't really explain how, but that soup is inside the chimichanga. Sorry, trade secret, fellas. Dessert? Have you heard of the Choco Taco? Try the Baklava Chimichanga on for size. (Hint: The phyllo dough is deep-fried, and there's more refried beans than most Greek pastry chefs would use.)

But you're really depriving yourself if you don't order off of the main chimichanga menu. Here's a partial rundown of what's out there for you:

Chimi Hendrix: Served on fire. Warning: After eating the Chimi Hendrix, be careful not to choke on your own vomit.

Chimi Stewart: Filling consists of a giant chunks of rabbit, and it's garnished with Zuzu's petals. Honestly, this item might make you wish you'd never been born.

Chimi Hoffa: A fried chorizo burrito, buried under cheese, sour cream, guacamole, jalapenos, mole sauce, and three feet of concrete. Half-price for Teamsters. We will do our best to get the Chimi Hoffa into concession stands at Giants Stadium.

Chimi Crack Corn: The burrito is stuffed with undercooked corn, but sprinkled with crack, so you won't care.

Chimi Fallon: The chef keeps cracking up at his own jokes while preparing the burrito, so the end result is sloppy and unpredictable. Full of baloney. Not a smart late-night option.

Jules et Chim: Fried burrito filled with escargot, brie, and ennui.

Chimi Dean: A sausage burrito. Not to be confused with the Chimi Leans, which are filled with tofu and olestra.

Chimi Olson: Has a subservient, homoerotic relationship with the Superman chimichanga.

Chimi Breslin: Instead of being deep-fried, it's hard-boiled.

Chim Chimmenny: Bangers and mash and refried beans. Served by a waiter who does a terrible British accent.

Chimi Durante: Warning - this salsa is hot-cha-cha-cha.

A chimi joke about your mama that you might not like: She thought "nacho cheese" was cheese you stole off another diner's plate. Also, I heard she was a 'Frisco dyke.

Chimi Eat World: Item was more popular back in 2002. Only memorable part is the middle.

Chimi Chimi Cocoa Puff, Chimi Chimi Rah: Burrito goes down down baby, down down the roller coaster. Served with a biscuit - a Triscuit. Eating this will make you feel like you've been socked in the stomach three times.

Chimi hat: Much like using a condom, simply eating this condom after sex with prevent 99% of unwanted pregnancies. The tortilla has a reservoir tip.

Chim Crowichanga: Black beans are served separately.

Chimijenga: Remove just one ingredient, and the whole thing falls apart.

I will be accepting applications from investors, as well as dinner reservations, starting now. And if any Top Chef champion chefs are interested in jumping on board, you know how to reach me.

"Joey Devine Is A Superstar" is happening tonight at the Dark Room. It's an exciting monthly showcase dedicated to standup comedy, videos, and advancing the cause of Joey Devine's superstardom. Last month, Joey debuted an ambitiously-titled feature called "The Movie Game". Comics draw two actors from one hat and a genre from another at the start of the show, then have until the end of the show to write and deliver a movie pitch involving those elements. Let's take a look at last month's participants and the blockbuster ideas they came up with.

Pitch: In Castro!, Al Pacino plays 60-year-old Fidel Castro, and Anthony Hopkins plays 70-year-old Fidel Castro. 70-year-old Castro has to travel through time to warn 60-year-old Castro about the exploding cigars that JFK sent through the space-time continuum.

Pitch: Tom Cruise plays Bill Yards, a legendary pool hustler who wants to learn to dance. Antonio Banderas is Juan Momento, a Spanish salsa instructor who needs to win a billiards tournament to avoid being deported. In a series of tender scenes, Cruise teaches Banderas how to play pool, and Banderas teaches Cruise how to have anal sex. The movie is called Corner Pocket.

Pitch:You Got Served 2: Tall Order
Barack "Brickfeet" Sharpton (Shaq) is a waiter by day, aspiring Chris Brown backup dancer by night. Dallas Raines (Robin Williams) is a post-op transgender man who was once a Rockette dancer in NY. He comes out of retirement to teach Sharpton the art of dance. It's basically You Got Served meets Finding Forrester meets My Giant.

Chris Thayer (had two pitches,; I can't remember the other one)Actors: Vin Diesel and John CusackGenre: Romantic comedy

Pitch: Vin Diesel plays a homophobic operator, whose world is changed when he gets stuck with World Blowjob Champion John Cusack. See the sparks fly in Going Down.

Pitch: The movie opens with That Kid From Twilight sitting in an electric chair. He stares at the camera, and says, "No more Mr. Nice guy." Then gets electrocuted. The next scene has Cedric the Entertainer buying a shirt with his girlfriend, but he's sick of buying clothes. But his girlfriend is like, "Come on baby, try this one on. Another shirt won't kill you." Except, this happens to be the same shirt that That Kid From Twilight wore when he was executed. And it will kill him. So the whole movie is him fighting this killer shirt. It's called, Clothes Call.

(Note: Louise and I were discussing our idea for a 21st-century social network called "Faceplace". I told her there was no way the domain name was available, due to its similarity to other big site names, and because it was made up of two simple rhyming nouns.)

Louise: I like the idea of randomly buying rhyming domain namesLouise: turdherd.comLouise: butterclutter.comLouise: germfirm.comSean: turdherd.com is availableSean: I might buy it for OmarSean: germfirm.com is takenSean: butterclutter, also availableLouise: So great!Louise: This is a fun gameLouise: mouseblouse.comSean: dreamcream.comLouise: toastboast.comSean: Mouseblouse.com was purchased in October of 2006Louise: AmazingSean: This makes me want to write a movie called "Turd Herd"Sean: Just so it wouldn't have to be turdherd-themovie.comSean: Dream Dream is an actual productSean: That increases a woman's sexual stimulationSean: At last!Sean: "Uses amino acids to improve the frequency and intensity of orgasms."Sean: Also, Dream Cream's manufacturers claim it is "discreet"Sean: I guess, you could apply it on the bus or something?Louise: I wonder if every possible rhyme with "blog" is taken?Louise: fogblog.comLouise: dogblog.comLouise: hogblog.comLouise: Oh weirdLouise: pogblog.comLouise: Teen youth group siteSean: Whoa dudeSean: Pogs are the devilLouise: So great that once upon a timeLouise: Some super cheeseball youth minister was like, "How are we going to get the kids excited about this website?"Louise: "I hear they are into the pogs"Sean: You know when that crazy youth minister had that brainstorm?Sean: November of 2007Louise: HAHAHAHASean: Fogblog is owned by a guy who lives on in SFLouise: We should go grafitti his houseLouise: To try to bully him into giving up fogblogLouise: FOGBLOG GO HOMESean: FOGBLOG UNFAIRSean: FACESPACE > FOGBLOGLouise: Make love not fogblogLouise: grogblog.comLouise: Also ownedSean: Australian-ownedLouise: Yes!Sean: An excerpt from vlogblog.comSean: "Vlogging has arrived. Of course vlogging has arrived. But it struck me again how much it has arrived when I saw the video ad above from AOL News.
It occured to me that our popular culture reference points for this time in history will be vlogs as much as anything else. Surely they won't be the types of things that reference other eras -- American Bandstand outtakes, Saturday Night Live skits, or clips from MTV's The Real World."Sean: "User-generated video. That's our time. It is officially the Vlog Era."Sean: Filed on February 29th of 2008Louise: This guy has put a lot of faith in vlogsSean: That is the third-to-last postLouise: He died of starvation in his houseLouise: Waiting for the vlog revolution to arriveSean: Apparently, the vlog blog era officially ended 18 months agoSean: Keeps uploading his grocery requests to youtubeSean: Stubbornly refusing to call 911

Here's what you say whenever someone gives you crap about George Bush, or being an American:

"You know, I could come back with some harsh, sweeping generalizations about you and people from your country just because of who your president is, but since I'm American, I don't know who your president, or prime minister, or chief voodoo emperor is, and I am never going to take the time to find out. Now please bring me some salty snacks and show me where the television is."

Argument over, "Baywatch" starting. Here are some gift ideas for the president:

For the past few months (and every third Friday this summer), I have been producing comedy shows built around a very marginal "Sean" pun. First it was "The Seanukkah Show" back in December, and most recently, it was "The Seanshank Redemption". In a few weeks, on my 30th birthday, you can see "Sean Keane Going on 30", where I channel my inner Jennifer Garner.

The first really solid realization of this concept came in March, when I did "Sean In 60 Seconds". The opening of the show featured me as Nicolas Cage, decoding coded messages about hair plugs, Lisa Marie Presley, and the perils of naming your son after Superman. Eventually, "Nicolas" showed his own self-produced blockbuster action movie, entitled "Gone In 60 Seconds 2: Book of Secrets", which I now present to you, gentle Zembla reader.